


Parenthood

by LikeTotesSecret



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3804739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LikeTotesSecret/pseuds/LikeTotesSecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collections of drabbles in Determamfidd's 'Sansukh' universe, focusing on the relationships various parents have with their children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tangled

**Author's Note:**

> For Dets. I hope I haven't butchered your characters too badly.
> 
> Dear Queen Dets is the creator of Mizim (Gloin's wife), Gimris (Gloin's daughter), her son Gimizh, Dwalin's wife Orla, and their kids Wee Thorin and little Balin (can't remember if they have a nickname for him, whoops). All credit for them goes to her <3

Dís scowled down at Kíli as she attempted to pull a comb through the mass of tangles his brown locks had been reduced to.

“Mama…” He whined, whimpering in pain.

“You brought this on yourself,” she growled, “I told you and your brother not to go out today, didn’t I?”

“I didn’t realize it’d be _that_ windy,” he scowled, then winced again. “Maaaaaa!”

On the counter behind his brother, Fíli snorted.

“You’re next, kid,” she informed him, waving the comb at him threateningly. Fíli shrank back in only partially-mock fear.

“At least you didn’t ruin any of your clothes this time,” Dís sighed. “I swear, one more ruined tunic…”

Her boys exchanged uncomfortable glances and she sighed, dropping the comb to the table. “What am I going to do with you…”


	2. The Lost Empire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's Thrain's favorite. Not that he's biased or anything.

“Da!” Dís cooed, and Thráin gave her a besotted smile as he lifted her into his arms.

“Hello, my lovely little princess,” he fussed over her wispy black curls as he bounced her a little in one arm. “You are looking beautiful today, my treasure.”

“Da!” She cried happily, leaning forward to bestow a clumsy kiss upon his cheek. He chortled as his sons came skidding into the room.

“Da!” Frerin shrieked, catching the back of his knees and almost taking his father down with him as he crashed gracelessly to the ground. “Da, help, Thorin won’t stop tickling me!”  
Thorin snickered and stalked toward him, wiggling his fingers at his younger brother with a look of unholy glee on his face. Frerin shrieked again, pitch so high Thráin winced and Dís shrieked with laughter, and bolted from the room, Thorin close on his heels.


	3. Beauty and the Beast

Mizim smiled at her husband and son tumbling around on the ground, Glóin growling playfully and Gimli shrieking in childish delight.

“Don’t knock over my kitchen table again, Gróinul, or I’ll be cooking up your head for supper,” she threatened, forcing her face into a menacing scowl as both of them froze.

Gimli scrambled off of his father, careful to ‘accidentally’ knee him in the solar plexus and leaving him wheezing.

“Sorry, Mum. Won’t do it again.”

She snorted. “That’ll be the day.”


	4. The Lady and the Tramp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I amuse myself with these titles.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Gimrís sighed, stroking Gimizh’s hair carefully as he slept. Bofur stepped up behind her and placed his hands on her hips gently.

“Finally got him to sleep?”

“He’ll be a little hellion when he’s older,” she chuckled, turning in his arms. He grinned down at her.

“Won’t have a moment to ourselves.”

“Be a nightmare,” she agreed.

They stared at each other, before shooting each other shit-eating grins and mutually dragging each other to their bedroom.


	5. Sleeping Beauty

A cry echoed through the house and Orla turned over to stare at her husband, whose eyes remained firmly shut in what he clearly thought mimicked his sleep patterns.

“You snore in your sleep, husband, and it’s your turn to take care of the baby.”

“I do not,” he countered without opening his eyes.

“It shakes the house. Go take care of him.”

“I’m asleep.”

“Go.”

He let out a loud, unconvincing snore and rolled right off the bed. She sprawled out as he trudged reluctantly toward Thorin’s room, making certain to cover as much of the bed as possible with her limbs so her husband would have maximum difficulty getting back into bed, and went back to sleep.


	6. The Incredibles

Dwalin smiled gently at his sons as Thorin patiently coached Balin through his letters, little Balin’s face screwed up in frustration and upset.

“You’re doing well, treasure,” Orla told Balin gently, stroking his hair, and he scowled but butted his head into her hand.

“You really are, little brother,” Thorin soothed, gripping his younger brother’s shoulder gently.

“Let’s take a break, yeah?” Dwalin offered. “Lovely day. I think we should have a living room picnic.”

His sons’ faces lit up and Orla gave him a private little grin as he turned to the kitchen.


	7. Brave

Éowen stared up at the warhorse in awe, Éomer cowering behind his much shorter sister as Theoden and Éomund laughed at them both.

“He won’t hurt you, lad.” Theoden assured his sister-son as Éowen began to make her slow way up to the massive creature. Éomer squeaked in fear and moved to hide behind his father’s legs.

“Oh, come on,” Éomund laughed, hoisting his son into his arms as Theoden trailed after his daughter to lift her up so she could gently pat the muzzle of the horse. “He won’t bite. Come on, I thought you wanted to be a mighty rider of the Mark one day.”

Éomer shook his head hastily, burying his face in his father’s shoulder. “I’ll be a mighty cook of the Mark. Make chicken my whole life long and never be near a horse.”

Éowen snickered at him. “Wimp.”

“Am not!”

Theoden and Éomund shot fond looks over the children’s heads as they began bickering heatedly.


	8. The Lion King

Dáin stared at Thorin.

Thorin stared back.

“What do you want? I don’t understand you. You’re just sitting there. You were crying half a minute ago.”

Thorin simply continued to stare at him, thumb firmly planted in his mouth and reddened cheeks slowly returning to their former state.

“Do you want food? Diaper change? Play?”

At the last word, Thorin cried out happily, pulling his thumb out of his mouth and holding out his arms. Dáin laughed.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. C’mon, lad, up you go!”

He lifted him high above his head as his son shrieked with laughter, and nearly glowed with happiness.


End file.
